


Primordial Forces of Destruction Don't Write Fanfic

by andimeantittosting (Saylee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beach Vacation, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, crack adjacent, strangled by the red string, taking the tropes far too literally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9563246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saylee/pseuds/andimeantittosting
Summary: Amara wants to try her hand at writing. Chuck wants her to stay out of his sandbox. No one kills anyone on purpose, and TFW take a beach vacation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 3 of [MittenWraith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith)'s ([mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/)) Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt. The tropes were Strangled by the Red String, and the fact that the Supernatural books exist in-universe and were penned by God himself.

“You don't have to be so Anne Rice about it –"  

Sitting in the bar of a Palm Springs resort, Chuck gave his sister an incredulous glance over the rim of his Mai Tai. “How do you even know who that is?” 

Amara shrugged and made a face at her own fruity cocktail. “It was pretty boring at Uncle Crowley's after I ate my nanny. I spent a lot of time online.” 

“He made you call him uncle?” Chuck experienced a full-body shudder. “Eugh.” 

Amara rolled her eyes, looking out over the moonlit beach. “You're deflecting, brother. I know you let other people write about your characters, so why can't I?” 

“Because you're my sister. Plus, you literally tried to seduce my OC. Could you be anymore of a Mary-Sue?” 

“One, I'm not the one who created my tragic backstory. Two, you inserted yourself into your story, and no one's calling you a Mary-Sue. Sexist. Three, I did back off, but really, if you wanted it to be clear Dean Winchester was spoken for, you really should have brought his relationship with Castiel out of the subtext before now. Did you know you've been accused of queerbaiting?” 

“Again, how do you even know what that is?” 

“I couldn't spend all my time on your cat blog.” 

“You read my cat blog?” 

Amara sighed. “The point, brother, is that if this 'samlicker81' is allowed to write the frankly disturbing things I've read, I should be allowed to, too.” 

“Look, Becky aside, the Winchesters are mine.” A whine crept into Chuck's voice. “Fanfic's one thing, but you're as powerful as me, and I don't want you messing up my plot. Can't you write about someone else? Someone I don't care about? Like him, maybe,” he said, pointing out a passerby in an overzealous Hawaiian shirt. “He looks interesting.” 

Amara eyed the man. “Very well. I will write about him, and you will read my work.” 

\--- 

“Well, what do you think?” 

Chuck cleared his throat, shuffling the pages of her manuscript together. “It's, ah, very exciting, but don't you think the romance is a little abrupt?” 

She eyed him. “No.” 

“He sees her once, and then the next time he runs into her, he's declaring his devotion, and intends to become one with her?” 

“What's wrong with that?” 

Chuck huffed in frustration. “It's a little purple, for one. And they don't even know each other, but now they're planning their future? And these other two, they've been friends for years, and never wanted more, but one drunken kiss later, and they're planning a wedding. You need some build up. You can't just throw people into a relationship with no footing.” 

“Look," Amara glared, "I've never created anything before. My writing skills are a little rusty.” 

“Touché.” Chuck eyed one of the couples, as they canoodled by the hotel pool. “They do seem happy enough. Why don't you try again with another two?” 

\--- 

"You killed my characters!" 

"I've done no such thing!" 

"Then why are they dead?" 

\--- 

Sam glanced up from his laptop as his brother entered the room. "Hey, so get this, this resort down in Palm Springs has had three couples turn up dead this week." 

"Huh." Dean took a swig of his beer. "So, we thinking bad shellfish?" 

"No look," Sam insisted, turning his laptop around. "None of them were dating before they arrived at the resort, and all of them look like they've been garroted by some kind of red thread." 

Dean leaned in to examine the pictures more closely, and whistled between his teeth. "Yeah, I don't think an angry scallop did that. Well, what the hell. Cas hasn't been to the beach before. It'll be fun. A working vacation." He ignored Sam's raised eyebrow. "Pack your stuff, Sammy, and don't forget the sunblock, cause I'm not putting aloe on your shoulders." 

\--- 

"Chuck." 

Standing on the pool deck, Chuck gave a sheepish little wave. "Uh, hey guys. Dean. Sam. Son."  

Cas was pointedly not looking at his father, so Dean stepped in. "The hell are you doing here?" 

Chuck ignored the question, pulling his sister forward by the arm. "And you guys remember Amara, right?" 

"Little hard to forget someone who tries to eat your soul." 

"Right." 

Amara turned her attention on Castiel. "Nephew. I'm very sorry I tried to steal your boyfriend. I understand much better now. I trust all can be forgiven." 

"Wait," Dean cut in. "Stop the presses. Cas, you've got a boyfriend I don't know about now?" 

"Oh my god, Dean," Sam muttered under his breath. "Er, sorry Chuck." 

There was an awkward silence. 

Chuck shuffled his feet. "So, um, I'm guessing you guys are here about the deaths, huh?" 

"Yeah, but since you two are here, I'm guessing you know something about it." Dean glowered. "Care to shed a little light on the situation?" 

"Yeaaah," Chuck hedged, "so first thing, you've gotta understand is it was an accident." 

"They were accidentally garroted?" Cas could not have looked more unimpressed with his father. 

Amara laid a hand on Chuck's arm. "Perhaps I should explain, brother, since it was my doing." Cas turned his squint on her. 

"You killed those people? Why?"  

"I didn't mean to." She spread her hands helplessly.  "I'm just a bad writer." 

Dean scoffed. "Have you read the tripe your brother puts out?" 

"I could still smite you for that, you know. Oh back down, Castiel. I'm not going to smite Dean. Look," Chuck explained, "when a primordial force of Creation puts pen to paper, he makes things happen. But when a primordial force of Destruction tries it, well..." He shrugged. "It's a side effect." 

"So," Sam asked Amara, "should we expect anyone else to turn up dead, or have you got the urge to write out of your system?" 

"Don't worry, I've chosen a new path." 

"Yes," Chuck agreed. "We've decided editing is much safer." 

\--- 

"Well, that was refreshing." Dean and Cas, dripping wet, tromped up the beach to where Sam was reading in the shade of a wide umbrella. "You should get in there, Sam, instead of sitting here reading, uh," he leaned closer to read the title, "Kelpie Lore of the 17th Century. We're on vacation. Live a little!" 

"Dean, if you drip water on these pages, I swear to God-" 

"Yeah, yeah, he's up at the bar with Sister Martin." 

"Sister -?" Cas looked up from attempting to brush the stubborn sand off his wet feet. "Oh, that was a reference to George R.R. Martin." 

Dean grinned. "Yeah it was, buddy. Hey, you're looking a little pink. Sit down, and I'll put some lotion on your shoulders." 

Cas grimaced. "My feet are still covered in sand. I'll get it on the towels." 

"Hazards of the beach bum life. Sand in uncomfortable places." A slow smirk spread across Sam's face behind his book, and Dean pointed a finger at him. "Not a word." 

"I wouldn't dream of it. Here's the sunscreen. Go oil up your angel."

**Author's Note:**

> The method of death comes from the TV Tropes page for [Strangled by the Red String](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/StrangledByTheRedString): "...apparently Cupid forgot to tie the Red String of Fate on the lovers' pinkies at birth, and in a desperate attempt to save face he ended up garroting them with it in a back alley while he thought the audience wasn't paying attention."


End file.
